Regulus Arcturus Black
by WriterAB
Summary: Regulus Arcturus Black- the forgotten brother. Read his story- or at least part of it, from first year to seventh and beyond. Watch him struggle with his brother and family, become a Death Eater, and spend his last moments with a house-elf- and more.
1. Chapter 1- First Year

Regulus' legs had never felt so heavy than when he walked up to the sorting hat. McGonagall was stood near it, her eyes giving nothing away as she watched the youngest Black take his place. The question was on everyone's mind who wasn't muggleborn- would he take his rightful place and sit by Narcissa and her boyfriend, Lucius, who sat with proud smiles on their faces, polished head boy and girl badges on their jumpers and green and silver ties around their necks? Or would he be sat by some Ravenclaws he didn't know- or worse, Hufflepuffs? Or, worst of all- in his mother's eyes at least- would he sit next to a proud, smiling Sirius and his three friends? The house had been silent the night before, the floorboards sighing and the walls whispering. His mother had told him that being sorted into Gryffindor would be the worst thing to happen to the family. One son being a disgrace to the family was bad enough- but both? Regulus had sat silently, his legs crossed beneath him as he had listened to his mother talk about his duties to the family, his responsibilities. His father had sat silent and still, swirling his drink in his glass, lost.

Would he still have his mother's love come morning? Orion, his father, was strict, yes- and cruel, sometimes. But his mother- oh, his mother's love was sweeter than honey- but you can't get honey without bees, and Sirius let the bees sting him and let them die around him. Regulus was still planting flowers, feeding the angry bees and only wincing when one stung him.

He knew what he would say if the Sorting Hat was taking requests. Slytherin, of course. It's what his family would want.

Not all of your family, a little voice that sounded a lot like Sirius' whispered in his mind. It had been there since Sirius had left for school, and continued when Sirius came home in the summer and slept in his own bed all night, telling Regulus to piss off when he had a nightmare.

Regulus' eyes drifted over to his brother. He looked… strange. He was leaning forward, not paying attention to the drum-roll the one with glasses was doing or the words the pale one was whispering in his ear. Before the hat slipped over his eyes, Regulus saw his brother open his mouth as though he were about to talk, his eyes fixed on Regulus.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the youngest Black," the Sorting Hat said in Regulus'… ear? Mind? He wasn't sure.

"Just two years ago I was sorting your brother. Took me a while. I asked him why he didn't want to go into Slytherin, and it took him a while telling me why. He was a Gryffindor, through and through, either way. Maybe I'll take just as long with you."

Please don't, Regulus thought.

"Well, I wouldn't. But you're hiding something away, aren't you? There's a corner of your mind I can't get into, boy. Your family's doing, I'm sure. But no matter. You Blacks are a strange family- all so alike yet all so different. Yes, boy- even your brother is like them- though he doesn't like to think it."

This isn't about my brother.

"Fair enough. Let's see... clever, yes- and brave too. Do you want to join your brother in Gryffindor?"

Anywhere else, he thought. Please, not there.

"Shame. It might do you good. Anyway... hard-working? Well, you have the potential. We'll see. But ambition too... and lots of cunning.

Where? Regulus thought.

"SLYTHERIN!"

McGonagall took off the hat. Regulus stared at the Great Hall. He looked to his brother, who was as white as a sheet. He put his head in his hands. The weird friend of his began to pat his back, and Sirius flinched away.

Regulus wanted to run over to him, hug him, tell him Gryffindor was his place, not Regulus'. He may be okay with the family hating him- but Regulus wasn't. He listened to his parents and aunts and uncles- and now cousins, too- drone on about how important the family was, how upholding the Blacks' honour was more important than individual feelings. They had since Sirius and Regulus were allowed to sit on the adults' table at dinner. But at the end of the night, when they would walk up the stairs together, Sirius would whisper 'what a load of bullshit.' And Regulus would nod- not out of agreement, but because he didn't particularly like conflict. Raising one's voice hurt one's throat.

Regulus stood up shakily, and the Slytherin burst into delayed cheering.

"We got Black back, we got Black back!" they chanted. Regulus nodded towards them as he walked down the steps on jelly-like legs. Lucius and Narcissa gestured him over.

"Well done, Regulus," Narcissa said in his ear as they pulled him in between them. "Good job you didn't follow him."

She gestured to the Gryffindor table, where Sirius had lifted up his head and was shaking it slightly at James. As Dumbledore tried to shush the Slytherin table, Regulus forced a smile.

"Yeah," he said. "That would be terrible."

The feast was over in what felt like a lifetime of trying both to catch and avoid Sirius' eye. Regulus barely ate.

Narcissa circled a finger and thumb around his wrist.

"Eat more in the morning, little sparrow," she said. "You're skin and bones."

Regulus made a noise, and squeezed past some people, his eyes fixed on Sirius.

"Hey!" Lucius called. "You need to be showed the Common Room!"

"I know where it is!" Regulus called back. He flitted between people, rushing over to the door Sirius was leaving from.

"Hey! Excuse me- sorry- sorry- oh, god, sorry- Sirius!"

His brother didn't hear him. He carried on up the stairs with his friends.

Regulus ducked, and bull-dozed through people. There were a few unhappy people. Regulus ignored him. His hand closed around his brother's wrist, and he pulled him into a side-corridor- but not before Sirius grabbed his friend with glasses and dragged him with him.

Sirius' face set in stone when he saw him. As his messy-haired friend looked from Regulus to Sirius and back and forth, the brothers' eyes never left each other.

"Regulus," Sirius said. Regulus didn't regret the Sorting Hat's choice. He wasn't a Gryffindor, he knew that. He wasn't brave.

"I'm sorry," Regulus said. "I'm sorry I'm a Slytherin."

Sirius didn't speak for a long time- so long that Regulus was a little worried. When he spoke, his voice was faint.

"The hat gave you time to think."

Regulus nodded.

"So you could have been in Gryffindor?"

Regulus nodded.

"And you refused?"

Regulus nodded. Sirius' face turned to stone.

"When… when the Hat was taking so long, I thought… I thought you were battling for Gryffindor- I had to ask, had to beg. The Sorting Hat said Slytherin, and I said no. I thought it could be us, you know? Us, then mum and dad as an afterthought. I thought you were brave enough for Gryffindor."

"I'm not," Regulus said, taking his brother's hand. "I'm not you. I'm not my brother. I'm me. And I'm no Gryffindor. Please, Sirius- please understand. Please don't hate me for not being you."

"Don't hate you? I'll do as I please." Sirius snatched away his hand, and rubbed it on his robe as though it was soiled by Regulus' touch. "I knew you're more like them than I am, but I..." he trailed off, his eyes drifting away from Regulus' face. They snapped back sharply.

"We may come from the same parents," he said. "But you are not my brother."

It was though Sirius had stabbed him. He lifted a hand to his heart, and clenched his jumper in his fist, barely able to breathe.

"Come on, James," Sirius said.

"I'll meet you up there." James smiled at Sirius, pushing his glasses up his nose. Sirius looked at Regulus, and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

Sirius' footfalls faded. James appraised Regulus through his glasses.

"You okay?" he asked eventually. Regulus nodded stiffly.

"No, you're not. Ignore Sirius. He'll come around."

He looked down, nodding again. He focused on the cracks in the stone as hot tears began to gather in his eyes. He heard James sigh quietly before he knelt on one knee before him.

"What's wrong?" James said.

He kept his eyes determinedly on the floor, not wanting to see James' face as the tears spilled onto his cheeks.

"I'm not good at anything," he said, trying to keep his shaking voice steady.

"What do you mean?"

"I... try too hard to be a good son and that makes me a bad brother... I try to be a good brother and that makes me a bad son... I wasn't Slytherin enough for the Hat's choice to be immediate but I wasn't brave enough to choose Gryffindor." His hands were beginning to shake.

"Hey," James softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're good at some things, I'll bet. You'd make a good Seeker. I'm a Chaser, but I can tell."

"Quidditch?" Regulus started to laugh and cry at the same time. "Quidditch? I have no idea how to play- and I can't be on the team for another year-"

"Perfect," James said. "That leaves a year for me to train you."

Regulus frowned at the floor., wiping at his cheeks. "But… I'm a Slytherin."

"And you're also Sirius' brother. Whether he likes it or not." James patted his shoulder, and stood up. "And I don't normally like Slytherins, but you're nice enough. You remind me of a younger and slightly less tearful Sirius, believe it or not."

Oh, Regulus believed it. Many a time had he seen Sirius sobbing after a shouting match with their parents. But before Regulus could go in to comfort his brother, Sirius' face would twist sourly, and he would use his wand to fling the door shut.

He lifted his eyes from the floor, looking up at James solemnly. His hazel eyes were surprisingly kind.

"Do you know your way to the Common Room?" James asked, and he smiled weakly.

"I'm a Black," he said, wiping at his cheeks. "The directions were bedtime stories."

James laughed, and began walking away.

"You'd do well in any of your house, you know," he called over his shoulder as he began climbing stairs.

"Thanks." Regulus smiled, stronger than before. He began walking to the Common Room, knowing his way around the castle before he had even seen most of it.


	2. Chapter 2- Second Year

"Reagan Carter takes the Quaffle… passes it to- oh, what an interception by Slytherin Chaser, Dell Welch! Ravenclaw won't be too happy about that!"

Regulus was high above the action, idly sailing through the air on his broomstick. His parents had sent the newest broomstick- the Nimbus 1001- when they heard he got onto the team. It was his second match- his first had been against Hufflepuff. He had caught the Snitch, proving all of the Slytherins who had whispered into his ear that Second Years weren't any good on a team wrong.

"She shoots… she scores! What a goal! The Ravenclaw Keeper didn't see that one coming! The Seekers watch from up high. Robin Wolf, of the Ravenclaws, and Regulus Black, of the Slytherins."

Regulus swooped and went past the commentator, glancing at the scoreboard as he did so. They were well ahead of the Ravenclaws.

He started looking around for the small gold ball. He wanted to catch it- not just because that would end the match with the Slytherins winning, but so he could give it to Potter. He had kept his first snitch, often taking it out of the drawer to throw it up and down when he was supposed to be doing his homework. He had put on gloves for the occasion, wanting him to be the one the Snitch would remember. He had taught him how to be a Seeker, not put off when Regulus failed at first, unable to catch the Snitch for hours. He had been so convinced that Regulus would succeed because of his slightness that he had begun to believe it himself- and so Regulus had tried out for the team, and got in because of Potter. Regulus wanted to thank him for it.

"Does Wolf see something Black hasn't? Wolf's going after something, while our Slytherin Seeker dawdles about."

Regulus flew after the Ravenclaw Seeker, whose hand stretched out after something gold. She wore a navy cloak trimmed with silver- Ravenclaw colours. It floated out behind her as she chased the Snitch.

Regulus was quicker. As he came up neck-and-neck with the Fourth Year girl, he bashed into her, hard. She yelped, losing control of the Snitch. He hid a smile as she began to fall.

His arm reached out. He was gaining on the Snitch. A smile he didn't want to hide crept across his face as he realised that he was going to catch it.

_The whole school is watching_, he thought. _Might as well put on a show._

He started doing what Potter referred to as a 'corkscrew', twisting in the air as he went after the Snitch. He raised his broom slightly, and dived, catching it as he did so. He saw the ground looming up to his face- he swooped at the last moment, and corkscrewed back up, holding the Snitch triumphantly, a smirk on his face that James Potter- or anyone who knew his brother- could have mistaken for Sirius'.

He sailed down smoothly, holding the Snitch nonchalantly. The best way to show off was to act as though it didn't matter. After he showed that it did, of course.

Slytherins clad in emerald and silver roared. Ravenclaws in silver and blue held their heads in their hands. Hufflepuffs clapped politely, Gryffindors rolled their eyes and sighed, annoyed. The teams flew back down, the Slytherins landing by Regulus.

"Well done, Black," was repeated by most of them in different ways. Grins stretched from ear to ear. Regulus' didn't- it was small and nearly non-existent. His hand was clenched around the Snitch, which was still fluttering, not realising it had been caught because it had still not been touched by a human hand.

Regulus was the last one to get to the changing room huts near the Glass Lake, held up by the same Slytherins who had said he would be useless on the team who were now congratulating him, saying they knew of his potential the whole time. The Chasers and Keeper and Beaters walked away quickly, used to the praise and wanting the party. Regulus didn't mind the Slytherins' changes of tunes- he appreciated someone who could fake loyalty when it was needed. The Slytherins left in groups as he neared the changing room. Soon, he was walking alone.

He had his hand on the handle when someone grabbed his Quidditch cloak and dragged him back. Regulus made a noise of contempt before he saw who it was. He smiled.

"Potter," he said, putting on the light-hearted tone of voice Potter and his friends often used around other people. "Hold out your hand."

Potter did, his eyes crinkled with a smile behind his glasses. Regulus pressed the fluttering Snitch into his hand.

"A thank you," he said. "For teaching me Quidditch."

Potter opened his hand, and gave a wide-eyed smile down at the now limp Snitch. "Wow," he said, voice filled with awe. "_Thank_ you. I've never had a Snitch before." He closed his hand around it, a serious look coming onto his face that Regulus had never seen. "I'll look after it. Keep it safe."

His brown eyes trailed off, following something- or someone. Regulus turned, and frowned. The red-haired Evans was walking a little distance away with Snape, who was in his bat-like walking mode- as always. Regulus turned back to Potter, who had a faraway look and a small smile on his face.

"You like Evans?" Regulus asked, and his eyes snapped back to his.

"Um… yeah." He shifted from foot to foot. Regulus' frown deepened.

"But she's a muggleborn."

Potter raised an eyebrow, surprised. "So?"

Regulus looked down at the ground. He didn't talk to Potter about much other than Quidditch. When he tried to bring up Sirius and how he was acting lately, Regulus would nod and ask how his broom-work was. Potter would always look slightly disappointed, but understanding. He didn't want to engage in politics with this loud-mouthed Gryffindor, who had probably spent all of his time in the common room and dormitory listening to Sirius ramble on about how much he hated his family's pro-purity views. But Potter wasn't having it.

"What's wrong with being muggleborn?" he asked stubbornly.

"I need to get changed-"

"Do you not like muggleborns?"

The question was so blunt and viciously said that Regulus winced.

"I… I don't _dislike _them. They're there. They're irritating, but they don't get in the way. I would rather flick them out of the window than stamp on them, though."

Potter's face grew dark. He began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Regulus called, and Potter turned, shaking his head slightly like Sirius had the day of Regulus' sorting.

"You're like the rest of them," he said. "You're exactly who Sirius said you'd be. You're like your parents and- and your cousins and _every one of them._"

Regulus took a few steps forward, eyes glinting with fury.

"You know _nothing _about my family, Potter," he said. "Other than Sirius, who's the white sheep of the Black family."

Potter sneered, and turned back around. He drew his hand back, and launched the Snitch into the Glass Lake. Regulus' breath hitched. He stormed into the changing room huts, ignoring the questions of his teammates about where he had been. He stayed away from the windows for obvious reasons- he was getting showered and changed. But that meant he didn't see James Potter stop, take his wand out, and whisper 'Accio Snitch,' and walk away with the dripping Snitch held fast in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3- Third Year

It was a cold day that the name of the Glass Lake changed. Regulus was sat by it, wondering why he was doing so. But the cold air helped cool his mind, which he liked. It helped to have a cool mind when reading, when head pains stayed away.

"Hey, Black."

Regulus turned. There were a few people milling around- he could see his brother and his friends by the tree that was widely known as the Marauders' tree. They were talking intently, their breath frosting the air. The one Regulus liked the least- the pale, sickly looking one- was quiet. He kept sending disappointed looks at Sirius.

But the speaker wasn't his brother or one of his friends. It was Snape, standing there with his greasy hair and long nose.

"Hey, Drippy," Regulus said, turning back to the book he was reading. He didn't _not _get along with the fifth year who had no idea where the nickname 'Drippy' came from. Regulus wanted to call Snape something to do with his long nose that he imagined dripped when it was cold. It didn't- Regulus knew that now, being in his third year of Hogwarts. But his brother and friends had already adopted the name Snivellus.

Snape crunched over on the frosted grass to where Regulus was sitting. He kicked the book from his hands, and it went into the Glass Lake. Regulus watched it fall, the pages folding in on each other. He froze, before relaxing. Anger was his brother's emotion. He was calmer. _Ice_, he thought. _I'm ice._

"What do you want, Drippy?" Regulus said. Snape grabbed the back of his robes, dragging him up and spinning him around to face him.

"Did you do that to Evans?" Snape spat, his pale face going red with anger.

_I am ice._

"Do what?" Regulus asked, faking concern.

"Take the books out of her bag and make them blank!" Snape was shouting by now, and a few people were listening in. Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus saw Potter begin to move forward, before Sirius put a hand out to stop him.

_Of course, _Regulus thought. _He doesn't want anyone protecting me. And I don't need protecting._

"I most certainly did not," Regulus said, faking concern. He was the master of faking emotion- he had been doing it for years. "Why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

Snape's cheeks blew up. He was shaking with fury. "I don't believe you."

Regulus shrugged a shoulder. "I don't care."

Snape pushed him so suddenly Regulus almost didn't feel it. One moment he was on the ground, next minute he was in the water, the cold, cold water. All the air left his lungs in shock. Regulus' hands stretched, reaching for the light. He floated slowly- he had never learned to swim. He reached the surface, and gasped for air. Snape pushed him down again, a hand in his wet hair, shouting something Regulus couldn't hear. He struggled, but it was fruitless. He screamed, but it was useless. In those moments, he forgot about the wand in his pocket. His head was banging with such a throb he could barely think.

His movements slowed, not having enough energy or air or whatever it was. They became weaker, weaker, weaker. Regulus' eyes shut slowly. The only movement he was making was because of Snape's hand in his hair, shaking him.

Cold.

Cold.

Cold.

And then, nothing. He stopped moving. And something grabbed his arm, pulling him, pulling him.

He broke the surface gasping again, and the person dragged him out of the water. He spluttered and spat out the lake water from where his mouth had begun to open slightly. His eyes were filled with water, but he could see someone beating someone else on the ground. He rubbed out the water, and recognised his brother instantly from the dark hair and the red and gold tie around his neck, hitting and kicking Drippy. People were crowded round, watching.

"Sirius," he croaked. Then, screaming, "Sirius!"

His brother stopped, and went over, helping him up and brushing him off. "Reg, are you okay? I'll get you some butterbeer if you want, you'll catch your death of cold…"

Regulus pushed his brother away. "I don't need your help," he spat. "I didn't need your help! I was fine!" It was a lie. But he would have rather drowned in the Glass Lake than be helped by his muggle-loving blood traitor brother.

"You _did _need my help." Sirius pushed him back. Regulus grabbed his arm.

_I am ice._

He pushed him, aiming to get him in the Glass Lake, an ugly feeling in his stomach and an ugly look of fury on his face. Sirius grabbed hold of him as he fell, and the two fell into the Lake together, kicking and screaming at each other.

_I am ice._

The Lake was ice, as cold as he remembered it. He felt Sirius freeze from shock. Sirius' grip on him tightened, drawing him close and closing his arms around his chest. Regulus struggled a little, but all the fight had gone out of him when he had entered the lake for the second time- and all the warmth. He went limp, and could feel Sirius urging him to fight back against the water. But Regulus was tired… so tired. And Sirius wasn't going to let him go.

So they both sank.

Black begun so swirl around Regulus, and he looked up, eyes squinting against the water. He had thought it was their robes, or their hair, but it came from the surface. It spun around them, then under them.

They began to float.

They went up and up, gaining speed. Sirius was crushing him to his chest now, and Regulus was still lifeless and unmoving.

When they broke the surface, Regulus gasped and spluttered like he had the first time, but Sirius was doing the same. They landed gently on the grassy bank. Regulus rolled over and looked at the lake. It was slowly going black, the smoke-like swirling thing spreading like ink in water. He rolled back.

Lily Evans had her wand out, her prefect badge gleaming on her robes, a worried look on her face. Potter was speaking to her. Unable to stand, Regulus rolled closer to hear what they were saying.

"I can't thank you enough, Evans… if Sirius had died… well, if Regulus had died, Sirius would have died either way."

"It's fine," Lily said, putting back her wand. "Someone had to do something. Those brothers need to learn not to fight."

"Says you." Potter nudged her slightly. "Are you going to write back to your sister?"

Evans shook her head.

"You should, you know. You _love _magic- and I'm sure you could teach her to love it, too. Hell, you taught me to love charms."

_And other things_, Regulus thought, looking at Potter's mushy eyes.

"I do love magic," Lily said. "But sometimes it's strange. And dark. Just look at the lake- my magic must have reacted with it."

"I don't think we can call it the Glass Lake anymore," Potter agreed. "Now it's black, and the two Blacks fell in it. There's only one name we can give it."

"What's that?"

"The Lily Evans Lake."

Evans laughed, then looked surprised she had. Potter gave a lopsided smile, and went over to Sirius, who was silent and still, close to the edge of the lake.

"You shouldn't have done that, Lily."

Regulus looked back to see Evans roll her eyes before turning to Snape.

"Done what?" she said, voice as cold as the lake and eyes as hard as ice. "Save them? You pushed Regulus in- if they had both drowned, their mother would have killed you. Twice."

Snape's skinny frame shook with anger.

"_Both _of them… arrogant little nitwits… they could have both been gone-"

Lily Evans saw Regulus listening and shivering on the floor, and knelt by him. Her dark red hair swung in his face. It smelled sweet- and Lily smelt of perfume, and her skin was creamy and unblemished, but she was still a muggleborn. Regulus drew back slightly, and a flash of sadness went through her eyes.

"I know it was you who made my books blank," she said, so low only he could hear it. "And I know you did it because I'm a muggleborn. And I know nothing will change your mind about how you feel towards muggleborns and muggles. But I don't care what you think of me or anyone else- if I see someone in danger, someone who needs my help, I don't care who they are." Her green eyes flashed. Regulus continued to shiver. "I'll damn well help them. No matter the consequence." Her eyes trailed to Snape, who had stormed off in a trail of black robes. Her eyes snapped back to Regulus. She waved her wand over him, and his shivering stopped. He was filled with warmth. She whispered the next words into his now-dry ear.

"Some things, Black, are worth more than your life. And I hope you find what you're willing to die for- I really do."

She stood and left. Regulus stayed on the floor, his hand touching his newly dry Slytherin tie. He looked over at his brother and his brother's friend- Potter, the sick one, the weird one, and some others Regulus didn't know too well. They all had their ties of scarlet and gold around their necks and grins on their faces, Sirius' slightly weaker than the rest. He met his brother's eyes for a moment. Grey, like his- but Sirius' were a storm and his were silver- hard and cold.

Regulus stood up and sighed, before heading back up to the castle. A tie didn't make you brave- and neither did being in Gryffindor. Regulus didn't want to be in Gryffindor. They were loud and annoying- plus not many Gryffindors would share his view on muggles and mudbloods. Slytherin was better. Lions attacked with a roar. Snakes slithered and attacked when it was least expected.

Regulus _liked _being a snake. But he wanted to be brave as well as ambitious. He could be brave without being a Gryffindor. He looked back at the Glass Lake- no, the Black Lake now. His brother was still there, laughing at something Potter had said. Nearly everyone was heading up to the castle now- except him, Potter, the other two, and Evans. She was laughing with them, the red of her hair standing out against the white snow and the Black Lake. She had looked so… appealing, with her flashing green eyes and dark red hair and pale skin-

Regulus slapped himself, hard. Evans was pretty, yes… and funny… and brave… but she was a muggleborn- no, no, a mudblood. His mother would never stand for it… she would know, she would know, she knew legilimency. She would find out, she would find out… he and Sirius had always found it curious that each thought of theirs their mother would seem to know. When they had confronted her, she had screamed that there were no secrets to be had in the Noble and most Ancient House of Black.

Regulus could practically feel her reaching into his mind. The ground above him was still as the shield he had put on his mind came into play. Their mother may have been skilled at legilimency, but he was particularly gifted at occlumency. His eyes closed, and so did his mind.

No secrets in the Noble and most Ancient House of Black, his ass.

But she was still a mudblood. His mother not knowing didn't make her any less filthy.

"Toujours Pur," he whispered. "Always pure." He opened his eyes, realising the people were looking at him like he was mad.

"Mudbloods," he hissed at them, and they looked surprised, stopping in their tracks. He stormed past them, and they began to whisper.

"Filthy mudbloods!" he howled, storming to the Slytherin common room. They quickly shut up.

They were filth.

They were disgusting, bringing a shadow on wizard-kind.

They were mudbloods.


	4. Chapter 4- Fourth Year

Regulus stared at the ceiling of his room.

His room, like Sirius', was at the top of many flights of stairs in Grimmauld Place- and yet he could still hear his mother and Sirius arguing.

He couldn't hear the words that were being said, but the volume drummed through him.

"Kreacher," he said softly. With a crack that he was used to now, the house-elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Regulus?" Kreacher said, bowing low. Regulus sat up.

"What are they arguing about, Kreacher?" Regulus said. Kreacher heard the sadness in his voice, and laid his head in his lap.

"Mudbloods, Master Regulus," Kreacher said. His voice was like the Sorting Hat's- croaky, but smooth at the same time. "Master Sirius says he won't ever call them that. Mistress Black doesn't agree. And Master Sirius thinks you shouldn't be encouraged into the Dark Lord's service."

Regulus sighed, looking at the beginning of his wall dedicated to the Dark Lord. Paper clippings, blurry pictures of the Dark Mark in the sky. His brother disapproved- but then his brother disapproved of anything that wasn't lions and scarlet and all things Gryffindor and good.

"It's none of his business," Regulus muttered, patting Kreacher's head.

"That's not what Mistress Black is saying," Kreacher said. "She thinks Master Sirius should be part of the Dark Lord's regime. He is sixteen, after all. When do you plan to join, Master Regulus?"

"I don't know." Regulus' voice was soft enough that he himself barely heard it. "Soon, I hope. I want to join. I want to fight. Bella's already joined- I don't want her too far ahead."

"Master Regulus is only fourteen," Kreacher pointed out. "The Dark Lord wants his followers seasoned."

A blood-freezing scream came from downstairs. Regulus gently set Kreacher's head to the side, and went to his wall of darkness.

"I won't be fooling around with friends by the time I'm sixteen," Regulus said, snatching up a locket he had found in the Slytherin common room. It was small and marble green, and he had liked it the moment he had set eyes on it.

"When I'm his age… I'm going to be doing something better. Something proper. Not messing around with Potter." Regulus spun, the locket's chain digging into his hand. "I'm doing my OWLs this coming year… Sirius did well in his… but I'm going to do better."

"I believe you can, Master Regulus," Kreacher said, and Regulus smiled. He had long ago ordered for Kreacher to only tell him the truth- and if Kreacher believed he could do it, he believed it, too.

"After my OWLs, I'm going to join Him," Regulus said, twisting the locket around in his hands. "And I'm going to be His most loyal… His most trusted…. His…"

The door slammed open. Kreacher disappeared with a loud crack. Sirius stood in the doorway, his eyes wild and his hair messed up. His door was open, and Regulus could see his possessions flying around the room into an open suitcase.

"Come with me," Sirius whispered, stepping into the room.

"To where?" Regulus asked, swinging the locket.

"I can't tell you unless you come." Sirius looked close to tears.

"No," Regulus said shortly. Sirius grabbed his arm.

"Please, Regulus!" he said. He grabbed him into a hug, and began crying into his chest. Regulus pushed him off.

"No!" Regulus said. "What happened? Why the hell are you crying?"

"Mother used crucio on me," Sirius whispered. Regulus stared at him, before turning away to look at the wall. He tried to read one of the articles.

"Mother wouldn't do that."

"To you, maybe not. But she did- and father just stared." Sirius took his hand, and turned Regulus back around, gently.

"If mother uses it on you, and I'm not there to protect you… I could never forgive myself. It would be worse than a hundred tortures, worse than a thousand years in Azkaban. What would you do, Reg? I wouldn't be there. You have to come with me."

Regulus didn't snatch his hand away. He put his free hand on Sirius' cheek, which was wet with tears.

"I would tell Kreacher to find you, and then I would go there," Regulus said calmly.

"Kreacher would tell mother."

"Not if I told him not to. He actually likes me, remember? You know, because I treat him like I would someone else?"

Sirius shook his head slightly. "Come with me."

Regulus stepped away. "With you gone, brother, there'll only be one Black brother left. Mother may not look for you- but if we're both gone?"

"Please."

Regulus turned away. "No. Go."

A few seconds later, he heard Sirius slam his trunk shut. He turned back. His brother was at the door again.

"My fireplace is blocked," he said. His Gryffindor scarf was trailing from his neck. His eyes were frightened.

"Feel free to use mine," Regulus said. His brother smiled gratefully, and took a handful of Flu powder from the pot Regulus had. His eyes darted to the Dark Lord's wall, the Black family crest, and the Slytherin banners. But he said nothing.

"Wait," Regulus said, and Sirius froze, turning back to him. He looked so vulnerable. His red and gold jumper was so large it practically swallowed him, and the scarf made him look a lot younger. His eyes were wide with fear and glistening with tears.

Regulus took out his wand, and Sirius flinched. Regulus laid the point of it on his head.

"_Potuissent sequi_," Regulus muttered. "_Non potest audire. Nequit ad legendum. Nequit ad videndum."_

"What?" Sirius whispered as Regulus put his wand away rather smugly.

"She can't track you, see you, hear you or use legilimency on you," Regulus said proudly. "You're completely safe."

Sirius pulled him into a fierce hug.

"James' house. Don't say a word." He pulled back, and Regulus winked, tapping his nose. Sirius' mouth mashed together.

"I'm going to miss you, Reg," he said.

The two brothers jumped as they heard someone stomping up the stairs.

"Go," Regulus hissed. "See you in September."

"See you." Sirius took out his wand and set a fire going. He threw in his Flu powder.

"The Potters' house!" he whispered, and disappeared in green flame. Regulus quickly put out the fire as soon as he had left.

"_Sirius_!" He heard his mother fling open his brother's door and start searching. He sat on his bed, took a few calming breaths, and closed off his mind. He picked up a book and pretended to read.

Sure enough, Walburga Black stormed in.

"Where is he?" she hissed, stepping towards Regulus.

"I don't know," Regulus said simply, and looked down at his book. _I am ice. I will not break._

"If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not."

Walburga's mouth twisted. "So he's gone then."

Regulus shrugged. "Dunno."

His mother's eyes narrowed. Her hand twitched to her wand. Regulus' mouth dried. If she used the cruciatus curse… he didn't know how long he would last.

"You sure you don't know anything?" she asked him. The silence was heavy. It crushed his lungs, his heart.

"No."

Her eyes narrowed further. She grabbed his arm.

"Prove it."

He let her lead him down the stairs, wondering what she was going to do. _Was _she going to torture him? Or question him? Maybe she'd use a truth potion. His hands began to sweat. He hoped she couldn't feel it.

She took him to the living room. Kreacher was there in the corner, twisting his fingers.

Mrs Black handed him her wand, and pointed to Sirius' name on the Black Family Tree. It was next to his own.

"Blast it off," she said. Regulus dropped the wand.

"No!"

"Yes, Regulus! Now!"

"He's my brother!"

"Not for long," Orion Black said from behind his paper. He was sat quite casually, one leg slung over the other. Not the typical pose or calmness of someone who had watched their son being tortured. Regulus set his jaw.

"I'm not going to. And neither are you. He's still… still…"

"A blood traitor," Mrs Black spat, and Mr Black nodded in agreement. "A disgrace. An abomination. Not worthy of our blood. _Toujours Pur,_ Regulus- always pure. Now, clip off the dead branches."

Regulus folded his arms, and stood in front of the tree. "No. Sirius isn't dead."

"He is to us." Mrs Black picked up her wand. "Don't make me make you, Regulus. You're the good son, remember? The only Black left to carry on the line."

"What will you do?" Regulus demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Torture me like you did Sirius? I won't fight you, mother. But remember that if I join the Dark Lord, he won't look favourably on… on you. So, don't."

His mother frowned slightly. His argument didn't make sense to his own ears. Mrs Black raised her wand, and Regulus tensed. A jet of magic went to burn Sirius off of the family tree. Regulus shot his hand out, and screamed in pain, holding his wrist to his chest.

"Idiot boy!" Mrs Black roared, and shot it again. This one hit Regulus in the stomach, and he bent in the middle, howling. She shot it again, and this time it hit Sirius' name. Regulus cried from a different pain. He knelt on the floor, his sore hand held close to him, his other hand on his stomach, his throat searing from the pain of voicing his agony so loud.

Mrs Black stood over him and pulled him up.

"You're a _Black_!" she roared, pinching his ear in her fingers. "And we do what is necessary to keep our bloodline strong, healthy- we don't have blood traitors like that mudblood-loving scum, you hear?"

"I hear!" Regulus howled. "I hear!"

"Good." She let him drop, and Mr Black followed her out of the room. "Dinner will be ready in an hour."

They left him crying on the floor. He must have stayed there for a good few minutes before he could handle the pain and control his voice.

"Kreacher," he said, and Kreacher padded to by his side.

"Yes, Master Regulus?"

"Are your hands cold?"

"Quite, Master Regulus."

Regulus unbuttoned his shirt from where he lay. He kept his eyes shut- but Kreacher gasped in what couldn't be a good way.

"And my hand," he said, as Kreacher laid a hand on his chest. He held his hand, and Regulus squeaked. The burning heat and the cold of Kreacher's hand hurt, but in a good way.

"Take me upstairs please, Kreacher," Regulus said. "To Sirius' room. I don't think I can walk."

"Yes, Master Regulus."

Regulus heard the beginning of soft sobbing coming from where his mother had stormed off to. The house was silent other than that. He would feel bad for his mother under different circumstances- she had just lost a son, as much as she had hated him- and she might think she was on the way to losing another. But Regulus was laying on the stone floor, a house-elf's hand cooling down the burns she had given him. She wasn't going to lose him- but he wasn't going to comfort her, either.

They disapparated with a crack.


	5. Chapter 5- Fifth Year

Regulus had learned to tune out Barty's constant talking. The boy was a year younger than him, and looked up to Regulus so much it pained him inside. The way the boy nodded whenever Regulus spoke- which wasn't a lot- and the way he paid full attention to whatever he said made Regulus feel quite guilty he didn't really listen to him. But Barty spoke all of the time, and Regulus only spoke when he needed to. He would never start a conversation if they had fallen into a comfortable silence. He would just leave the silence alone, because clearly it was there for a reason.

They were walking into the Great Hall for lunch, and Regulus was walking with Barty gabbing in his ear.

"Oh- and then father said he wants me to work with the Minister for Magic, but I think-"

"Regulus?"

Regulus stopped, turning towards the speaker. His brother was sat at the Slytherin table, with the sick friend on one side and the weird friend on the other. Regulus looked around for Potter- he was watching them from the Gryffindor table with Evans, their hands loosely entwined. With his free hand, Potter was playing with a battered looking Snitch. Regulus frowned. Potter was a Chaser- where did he get the Snitch from? He was always playing with it, but Regulus hadn't thought much of it until now.

Sirius patted the seat beside him. Regulus turned to Barty.

"I'll catch up with you." He sat down next to his brother cautiously, motioning Barty away.

"Regulus," said his brother, and he nodded his head curtly in reply. Sirius looked as guarded and tense as he did. The strange friend of his looked at him, then Sirius, back and forth. The sickly one had his eyes glued to the floor, obviously terrified about sitting at the Slytherin table. Regulus smirked.

"How was Christmas?" Sirius asked stiffly.

"I stayed here. How was your birthday?"

"Alright. Uncle Alphard sent me money."

"I heard. Mum burned his name off of the Tree." Regulus held his hand as he did so, remembering the burn and trying not to wince.

Sirius did wince, however.

"I know," he said, the cold look in his eyes melting a bit. "I went back to the house. I was there when she did it- don't worry," he added, seeing Regulus' mask slip in concern. "I was invisible. No one saw me. She burned it, and she said… she said you had plans."

Regulus looked up at him, masking his surprise.

"Plans?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "For your sixteenth."

"Oh," Regulus said, looking back down. He dug his thumb into where he had been burned. "Yes. I do."

"What plans?" the sickly one asked, and Regulus looked at the concerned, pale boy in surprise. He had never heard his voice before.

"Nothing, Moo- Remus," Sirius said, his jaw clenching as he corrected himself.

"What plans?" the strange one repeated. He saw Regulus staring at him, and looked down, his face aflame.

"I don't believe I've ever heard either of the freaks talk before," Regulus said aloud to himself.

"They're not freaks," Sirius spat. "And they have names."

"Yes," Regulus agreed. "Remus something. And…?"

"Peter P-Pettigrew," the strange one stuttered. Sirius nudged him, frowning.

"Don't be afraid of him, Peter," the sickly one said. "And I'm Lupin- Remus Lupin."

Something clicked in his mind.

"Glad I asked that question," Regulus said, trying not to laugh at the way Sirius' friends were acting- lent slightly away from him, looking from Sirius to Regulus to Sirius again, looking at their faces and spotting the differences. Sirius seemed to notice too.

"Seeing how much better looking I am than him?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, running a hand through his hair. Regulus sniffed. He wasn't bothered by Sirius' remarks- plus, all of the Blacks had an inherited good look about them, shown through haughty features and dark hair.

"N-No," Pettigrew said, looking terrified as Regulus stared him down. Neither Sirius nor Regulus would feel Remus and Peter's feeling of awe mixed with wonder as the brothers, who both claimed to be the polar opposite of the other, with one wearing a tie of green and silver and the other with one of red and gold, had the exact same haughty look, and sweeping back of hair (though Regulus' was black and Sirius' dark brown), the same glint in their grey eyes.

Sirius' mouth curled. "Oh, please. Regulus is like me, but the cheaper version."

"There's quite a range of knives on the table today, Sirius. Please don't think that my hand would stutter should I tell it to stab one in your pretty throat."

Sirius smile wavered, but not because of his brother's threat. He looked down to the table.

"Poor little thing," Regulus said, his voice as sharp as a knife. "You look so sad that I almost feel bad for you. You've had those puppy-eyes mastered for a while now, haven't you, you little dog?" He nudged Sirius, who looked up sharply. He had made it a mission to find out who the big black dog that sometimes padded around belonged to- the one that either greeted Regulus with a lick on the leg or a bite, lay in the sun by itself, and pushed Snape into what was now called the Black Lake. He had been watching the grounds one night, unable to sleep- as usual- and had seen his brother one moment, and the dog the next. But why his brother was an illegally an Animagus hadn't been answered until today.

"My," Remus said. "These plates are fascinating, aren't they, Sirius?"

"Quite."

Regulus stood up, and Sirius frowned.

"Aren't you eating?"

"Not hungry."

Sirius' frown deepened. "You're awfully thin."

"I don't care. I'll go to the kitchen if I'm hungry. The elves there love me."

"Think about it, Regulus."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "About the house-elves?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "_No._ You can go off with Bella for your sixteenth, or… you could always spend it with me. I know how to get into the kitchen- I could steal some food, you could come up to the Gryffindor common room, and James could go and get some butterbeer-"

"I'd rather not," Regulus said, cutting him off. "I already have plans."

Sirius clenched his jaw. "It's not for a month."

"I know," Regulus said. "But I make my plans in advance."

Sirius nodded tightly, and stood.

"I won't tell anyone," he said, and from the look on Remus' face, this secret wouldn't go down well. "But we're only related by name." His eyes were cold. "You're not my brother."

This statement would have hurt more if it hadn't been screamed at him in every argument with Sirius. But this time Sirius sounded like he meant it- and Regulus couldn't care less.

"Okay," he said quite simply, and started walking away. Sirius friends stood up- to sit back by Potter and Evans, who were quite disgustingly in love.

As he walked back to the Slytherin Common Room, ready to find himself a corner and read, he felt someone grab his sleeve and pull. Regulus had his wand out in an instant as they spun him into a deserted classroom. He kicked close the door himself, adrenaline pumping. As they tried to have him pinned against the wall, he reversed the situation, so the tip of his wand was resting on the pale boy's throat.

"Lupin?" he spat, digging his wand in. His brother's friend raised his hands in defeat.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, sounding scared himself. "But I knew there were no other circumstances under which you would speak to me."

Regulus narrowed his eyes. He understood why Lupin would have a healthy fear of him, but there was something phony in the fear that was living in his eyes. It left quite suddenly, and Lupin kicked him away. Regulus landed on the floor, shocked, but keeping a tight grip on his wand.

"Don't try anything."

Lupin's wand was pointed at his throat.

"You may be a Black, but I'm a Marauder, and-"

Before Lupin had time to finish his heroic statement, Regulus swept his leg under Lupin's feet, and the boy went crashing to the floor next to him.

"Listen, you hell bound little Gryffindor-"

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver wolf came bounding at Regulus. He waved it away, but the beast was all around him. He felt his wand being wrenched out of his hand, and the wolf disappeared. Regulus gave a little cry at how crassly Lupin was holding his beloved wand- twelve and three-quarter inches, cherry wood and dragon heartstring- and he gave a big cry when Lupin tossed both of their wands to the other side of the room.

Lupin stood up, his face burning. "You'll make a fine Death Eater, because you sure as hell fight dirty, Black," he snarled.

"I'd say bite me, but you'd probably want to."

Lupin froze, and Regulus laughed.

"Wha- you can't be that surprised someone other than your highwaymen figured it out. Your name is literally Wolf Wolf."

Lupin's cheeks burned. "The Ministry assigns werewolves a new name… means they can identify werewolves easily…" he trailed off.

"Is that why my brother's an Animagus?" Regulus asked. He was teasing now. He hoped Lupin wouldn't break. "So you can run around and have fun in the moonlight?"

"They're all Animagus," he snapped.

"Not surprised Sirius is a dog," Regulus said viciously. "He might be a boy, but he's a fucking bitch."

Lupin's face softened. He offered a hand that Regulus refused, and stood up by himself.

"Your brother's lost a lot," Lupin said. "Your family. James doesn't want to mess around much now. And he doesn't want to lose you, too. Once you're in the darkness, you can't find your way back."

"What else has he lost?" Regulus asked. "Why doesn't James want to mess around- and don't tell me it's because of Evans. She's just as fun as any of you."

"It's not. Sirius- he lost this map we had. And the map was… special."

"The Marauder's Map, right?" Regulus said casually. He had been determined to get dirt on his brother once, and followed them around using an invisibility charm a few years ago. "The one with all the moving names."

Lupin eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah… not going to ask you how you know that. Anyway, we were… using it. And Filch was there, and Sirius couldn't say anything because he dropped it down the stairs and he was… not visible. Filch saw it, and all Sirius could do was… clear the map. Non-verbally. James doesn't want to mess around as much because- well- if he does, and Filch has the map and it wasn't cleared, we'll get in trouble."

"Mischief not so managed, then," Regulus said, amused. He shrugged at Lupin's shocked face.

"How- it doesn't matter. But Sirius- are you actually going to become a Death Eater?"

"Did he tell you that?"

Lupin gave a small, sad smile. "I can put two and two together, Regulus. And it came out as four."

Regulus clenched his teeth together.

"So are you? Planning on becoming a Death Eater?"

Regulus picked up his wand, and kicked Lupin's at him.

"What I do, Wolf, is none of your business."


	6. Chapter 6- Sixth Year

"Come _on,_ Reggy," Bella was saying. Regulus didn't even bother to correct her. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe, let alone talk. The dead family of muggles with their mudblood son lay on the floor.

The mudblood was only twelve.

He heard Bella sigh, irritated, and storm off, leaving him in the house, his wand held limply at his side.

"_Morsmordre!" _he heard her scream, and the darkness was shattered by the glow of the Dark Mark in the sky.

"Come _on, _Regulus!" she shrieked, and he heard a loud crack as she disapparated. But Regulus still couldn't move, couldn't tear his eyes off of the muggles and the mudblood.

'_Why_?' the part of him that was at his loudest when he had gotten his Dark Mark asked. _'They're muggles. He's a mudblood. They're filth._'

'_I know,'_ another part of him replied. _'But… I didn't think I would have to _kill _them. I just thought that we would round them up, and… and…'_

What _had _he thought? He didn't even know. But the mudblood was only twelve, and he was only sixteen… he had watched him get sorted into Hufflepuff the year before. He had his tie on, ready to go back to Hogwarts because the Christmas Holidays were over.

Regulus stumbled out of the house, not turning back to look at the Dark Mark above the house. He tried to run, but his legs were lead. Muggles were coming out of their houses now, hands over their mouths and confused looks on their faces, which were bathed in green light. Regulus got a few strange looks- but he knew what they saw. A haunted-looking boy, paler than milk- made even paler with dark hair- with tear tracks on his face, walking in robes and holding a wand and not bothering to hide his disgust.

He got to the end of the road, and a small muggle girl stood there. Regulus' heart felt heavy.

"What's happening?" she asked. "Why are you dressed strangely?"

Regulus' head snapped up at the crack. Bellatrix stood there, her dark hair and eyes wild.

"Kill her!" she screamed. Regulus pointed his wand at the girl, who wasn't more than seven years old.

He couldn't kill her, though.

"_Sectumsempra!" _he said, and willed his wand not to cause too much damage. He only gave a little flick of the wand, but a gash appeared on the girl's arm. She screamed, and ran off, crying for her mummy. Regulus' eyes followed her until she was out of sight. It could have been worse.

Bella grabbed his arm, but Regulus didn't flinch. She drew back slightly when she saw his face.

"You look dead," she said, not bothering to dress it up in flowery words. He knew what he looked like, so he didn't care. His skin never had colour in it these days, and there were constant deep purple rings around his eyes. McGonagall always looked concerned when she saw him, as did Slughorn- but neither said anything.

Bella apparated, holding onto him tight. He was with her. He hated the feeling of disapparating. He probably always would.

Bella led him through some dimly lit corridors, always checking behind her. Regulus' heart beat unsteadily. He knew Bella wasn't taking him to the Dark Lord to praise him. He had been used by other Death Eaters for crucio practise before- he didn't know if he could bear it again.

Finally, she knocked on a door, and a silky, high voice invited them in. Bella practically dragged him in.

"Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said. "And Black. Kneel, Black."

He did, almost robotically. He looked down to the floor, not wanting to see the Dark Lord's face. This was the room where he got the Dark Mark burned into his skin. He had been so proud…

"Why have you brought your cousin to me, Bellatrix? Is he not loyal?"

"He is, my Lord," Bella said in a hushed and awed voice- the one she reserved for the Dark Lord only. "But he refused to kill a muggle girl today. He killed the husband, but after that…"

"You may leave, Bellatrix."

Bella left, silently. Regulus stayed knelt, his mind shielded against the Dark Lord.

"Regulus." The Dark Lord stroked a pale wand underneath his chin as he prowled around him. Regulus shut his eyes.

"My Lord?"

The Dark Lord stayed silent for some time. Then, "Have you gone soft on the muggles, Regulus? Do you not think they deserve to die?"

Regulus looked up at him, the pale body in dark robes. "N-no, my Lord. I mean, yes, they deserve to die." The words felt dirty in his mouth.

"Then why don't you kill them, Regulus?"

"I-I do, my Lord."

The Dark Lord sighed, turning to face him. Regulus tried not to flinch at the dark, dark eyes. Traces of the handsome man the Dark Lord once was were barely visible any more.

"I have been alive for many years, Regulus Black," he said. "And I plan to be alive for many more- much more than one would believe is possible." He turned the ring he wore around his pale, thin finger. Regulus twitched, and the Dark Lord's head snapped up.

"I know a liar when I see one, Regulus Black," the Dark Lord said softly. "But I also know the beginnings of a very loyal Death Eater. I think you're the latter." He took off his ring, and held it in front of Regulus. "Take this to a little shack outside of Little Hangleton, and bury it inside of the house. You will know the shack… it is covered in old, dark magic."

"M-my Lord?" Regulus whispered, letting the Dark Lord drop the ring into his hand. "Can I ask why?"

"You can," the Dark Lord said. "But you won't get an answer. Be careful with the ring, Regulus- I have grown fond of it over the years. You might say it's… part of me." A snake-like smile whispered over the Dark Lord's face, and Regulus' hand clenched the ring tightly. Was the Dark Lord suggesting- but no, surely not. Not even he would go _that _far.

Regulus went to exit with a bow, but the Dark Lord said something that made him pause.

"Have a good term at Hogwarts, Black," he said, a sneer curling on his face. Regulus flushed, and left. Did he think that Regulus was nothing but a little schoolboy? Regulus looked down at the ring, held tight in his hand. It was probably worthless. Why the Dark Lord wanted to keep a scratched-up old ring safe, Regulus didn't know. He had thought that maybe… but no. The Dark Lord wouldn't trust Regulus with such a valuable thing.

It couldn't be what he thought it was- it just couldn't. Maybe he was planning on making one, and the ring was what he was going to use- but had changed his mind. Yes, that must be it. Mortality wasn't all too great- but who would want to live forever?

Regulus found Bella, and held out his arm. "Take me to Little Hangleton, please."

Bella stood up, frowning. "Why?"

"That's between me and the Dark Lord," Regulus said smoothly. Bella's eyes narrowed.

"Sure you don't want me to do it instead?" she asked. "Did he ask you why you refused to kill the filth? Were you worrying about not getting your Charms homework on time?"

"Little Hangleton, Bellatrix," Regulus repeated. Bella's eyes narrowed.

She took him to Little Hangleton, where he dug a shallow grave for the ring without letting Bella inside- then she took him to Grimmauld Place, where his mother smothered him with kisses, calling him 'her precious little son', and his father gave him a rare smile when he heard the Dark Lord sent him on a secret mission, and Kreacher gave him lemon cakes before he went to Kings Cross Station, and met with some other Slytherins there, and left for Hogwarts.


	7. Chapter 7- Seventh Year

The Slytherin dormitories were, despite popular Hogwarts belief, not too bad. Regulus' room was quite quiet, so he could hear the Black Lake through the window, which looked out into the lake- which, thanks to Evans, was now black. Snow was falling outside as November was saying its last goodbyes- not that Regulus could see it.

The beds were dark brown wood and green sheets with silver embroidered into the sheets and the curtains on the beds. Regulus sat on one now, turning the Snitch he had caught earlier in the day over and over in his hands. Barty Crouch Jr had tried to get into the room- but Regulus had locked the door. After persistent knocking, several _Alohomora _tries (Regulus, despite trying to keep quiet, couldn't help but laugh as Barty thought that would actually work), kicking the door and threatening him half-heartedly, Barty left, and Regulus was glad.

He should have been revising for his NEWTs, but his heart was in his throat, and he couldn't concentrate. He had lent Kreacher to the Dark Lord, and he still hadn't returned.

"What's he making you do, Kreacher?" Regulus whispered to himself, glad all of the other boys were in class, then lunch, then class again, while he was pretending to be ill. "Is he hurting you?"

_Crack_. Kreacher fell onto the bed, and Regulus jumped. Kreacher began to sob, huddled in a ball.

"Kreacher…" Regulus laid a hand on the shaking elf's back, and the house elf crawled up to him.

"Master Regulus," the elf managed out between sobs. "Master Regulus… Kreacher is sorry, he is so sorry…"

"What did he do, Kreacher?" Regulus whispered. He gave orders in a gentle manner, a manner which could be mistaken for simply asking questions. Sirius, on the other hand, would bark orders, and then wonder why Kreacher didn't like him.

"Kreacher had to drink a potion," Kreacher whispered. "Kreacher saw… terrible things. And the Dark Lord put a locket in a basin… and it filled with the potion again." Kreacher's eyes were filled with tears. "And the Dark Lord l-l-left Kreacher, said he hoped K-Kreacher would d-d-die in the c-cave."

Regulus sat up completely. "He left you there." It was flat. It was cold. Who would do such a thing?

The Dark Lord, obviously. The same person who killed innocent muggles and mudbloods.

_But he won't rule forever_, Regulus thought, his eyes darting towards his trunk, were stacks of muggle history books. He had researched people like the Dark Lord- mainly Hitler- in the books, his eyes filling with tears at the images of the people in the camps that had been sent up. He didn't have much interest in the 'why's and the 'how's of people's rises to evil- just the fact they had died, and their beliefs were slowly dying out, too.

"He left Kreacher there," Kreacher agreed.

"But… why?" Regulus said. Regulus had spoken so proudly of Kreacher when the Dark Lord had called a meeting and asked for a house-elf.

Kreacher looked up at him, his eyes bloodshot, a tear trembling at the end of his nose.

"Because Kreacher is but a house-elf, Master Regulus," Kreacher said simply. "And the Dark Lord wants a better world than we can offer."

Regulus hugged the house-elf without warning, and the elf began to cry again. Regulus shushed him gently rocking him back and forth.

"A locket, you said he had?" Regulus asked, and Kreacher nodded, still howling. Regulus frowned, and stood up off of the bed. He went looking for his locket, and found it in his trunk, being used as a bookmark for one of the muggle textbooks. He turned it over in his hands.

"Stay here as long as you want, and then go home when you're ready, okay?" Regulus said to Kreacher. "Come back on my birthday- I have to think things over."

Kreacher nodded, his eyes wide. "Where is Master Regulus going, if Kreacher can ask?"

"Kreacher may," Regulus said, picking up his wand. "I'm going to look for some books in Dumbledore's office- he's hidden them away, but I'll find them. I need to do some research, too."

Kreacher nodded, and Regulus left. Dumbledore didn't see Regulus in his office- the old man was asleep- until Regulus was leaving with the books under his robes.

"You look like him, you know."

Regulus turned, his eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

The old man smiled. "The same dark hair… but in more ways than one. But you're different, you know."

Regulus shifted uncomfortably. "You mean Sirius?"

Dumbledore just smiled down at the open book on his desk. "Next time you want to snoop around, Regulus, use an invisibility charm."

"Professor- I-"

"Hurry along now, Regulus." Dumbledore went to add something, but he stopped, his eyes drifting to Regulus' left arm. He gave a sad smile, and Regulus could have sworn he could see tears gathering in his eyes as he looked back down at his book.

For nights on end, he stayed awake until the small hours in the Slytherin Common Room, Barty half asleep in a chair nearby. He gave little grunts whenever Regulus began to speak out loud.

"There's nothing about destroying them," Regulus said one night, his tired eyes skimming the words. "So it must be pretty easy- right?"

Barty grunted, head in his hands. He had no idea what Regulus was talking about- but as Regulus was due to leave Hogwarts at the end of the school year, he was just glad to be spending time with him. November left and December came, bringing a new type of cold November could never hope to achieve.

Regulus continued to do research on horcruxes, each and every book leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He shuddered at what the Dark Lord had done to achieve his means. The Dark Lord was evil- there was no doubt about it. And the Dark Lord was immortal.

Regulus left Barty the night before his eighteenth birthday to go to his room. Barty was curled up in a ball, his hair mussed and his milky skin creased in a frown. By the light of a patronous he cast- a lion, as he had discovered in third year, soon after Sirius had rescued him from what then was the Glass Lake- he wrote a note. He folded it tightly, and put it in the locket. He wore it around his neck that day, hidden under his robes, reminding him of what he had to do. Barty was confused at why Regulus didn't want to sneak into Hogsmeade. Regulus hadn't been to Hogsmeade since Sirius had left Hogwarts- the place had too many memories of Sirius in it. His laughter echoed down the streets.

He locked himself in the dormitory again, and waited for Kreacher. When he appeared, he was told that Mrs and Mr Black wished him a happy birthday. He gave Regulus three wrapped presents- one from Mrs and Mr Black, one from the extended family, and one badly wrapped one from Kreacher himself. Regulus set them on the bed to open later.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Regulus said. "Tell them I said thank you, too. Could you take me to the cave the Dark Lord took you to?"

Kreacher began to tremble. "Kreacher can."

"Will you?"

Kreacher trembled more. "If you command him to."

Regulus bent down to Kreacher's level. "Kreacher," he said, gently but firmly, a hand on his shoulder. "Take me to the cave, and never breathe a word of it to mother or father… or anyone in the family. Or any Death Eaters. Or the Dark Lord."

Kreacher nodded.

"If Master Regulus gives Kreacher his hand…" Kreacher began to shake like a leaf again. "Kreacher will bring Master Regulus to the cave."

Regulus gave him his hand, and, true to his word, Kreacher brought him to outside a stone wall. Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"There needs to be blood drawn of a human," Kreacher said. "The Dark Lord used a muggle."

"What happened to them?" Regulus asked, getting out his wand.

Kreacher looked at the ground. "The Dark Lord threw them into the lake."

"What lake?"

"You'll see, Master Regulus."

Regulus sighed as he conjured a knife from the air. Muggles' deaths didn't bother him- but the reasons that they died- and the _way_ they died- did. Who would be the last to die?

_Hopefully the Dark Lord himself_, Regulus thought, and he smiled slightly. He drew the knife across his skin, wincing only slightly. Kreacher covered his eyes as Regulus' blood dropped on the stone.

"It's okay, Kreacher," Regulus whispered. He dropped the knife on the ground as Kreacher led him elsewhere. "I'm fine."

Regulus saw the lake Kreacher had been talking about. But his eyes were fixed on the glowing green basin.

"Is that the potion?" Regulus asked Kreacher, who nodded, slipping his hand into his own. "How do we get to it?"

"There's an invisible chain for a boat- you have to feel around for it," Kreacher said. So, still holding hands with Kreacher, Regulus felt around for the chain, his school robes dipping into the murky waters slightly. He yanked them out, cursing.

Regulus rowed, of course, trying not to look at the pale bodies in the water below. Kreacher sat with his hands over his eyes, not risking anything.

He conjured a goblet out of thin air. _I really should have finished that Transfiguration homework,_ he thought- not that it mattered. It was black on the outside, silver on the inside, with emeralds glistening in the handle. Using his wand, he began to carefully carve his initials on the inside of the goblet.

"Master Regulus?" Kreacher said softly. Regulus nearly dropped the goblet.

"Yes, Kreacher?"

"Do you- do you want Kreacher to drink the potion?" Kreacher looked terrified at the suggestion.

"No!" Regulus explained, half turning around. "No, no." They stood in silence for a while. Regulus loosened the Slytherin tie around his neck, but didn't take it off.

"Does it hurt? Answer me truthfully, Kreacher."

"Yes," Kreacher whispered. "Your worst memories… your stomach burns, your insides burn… and the potion makes up things, makes up lies… I saw…"

"You don't need to tell me," Regulus said quickly, and scooped up some potion in the goblet. "Just… promise me something, okay?"

"Anything, Master Regulus," Kreacher said.

"Make me drink the potion, Kreacher- don't obey any other orders I may give you." Regulus' hand began to shake badly, the potion in the goblet slopping at the edges. "Like I said before, don't breathe a word to any of the family, Death Eaters, or Dark Lord. Once I've drank the potion, switch the lockets." With his free hand, he wrestled the small locket with the note inside from around his neck. "Return home, and destroy the locket."

"What about you, Master Regulus?"

Regulus didn't answer for a good while. "Don't save me."

"Master R-"

"_Kreacher_! Don't save me, Kreacher- please."

He drank the first cup of potion. Then the second. The third, fourth, fifth. From the sixth onwards, a howling Kreacher had to pour the potion down his screaming throat.

"_Kreacher, stop!" _Regulus would scream, and Kreacher's tears would mix in with the potion as the house-elf went back and forth, fetching the potion and making him drink it. "_Kreacher, please!"_

The things he saw… oh, the things he saw. He saw his mother, torturing Sirius, torturing him while Sirius laughed… he saw Kreacher, fully clothed and smiling… he saw his brother again, dressed in his Gryffindor uniform, his arm slung around James' shoulder, claiming James was his only brother… he saw himself on the floor, screaming and howling while other Death Eaters used the newest recruitment for crucio practise… and he saw the Dark Lord last of all, laughing as he sat on top of a pile of dead bodies, including his own… eternal, immortal, unstoppable.

He wrenched the second-to-last goblet from Kreacher's hands, and drank it himself. "I'm going to destroy you, Dark Lord!" he shouted as Kreacher cried. "You're going to die, Voldemort- you're going to be mortal, Tom Riddle!"

His insides burned, worse than any cruciatus curse. Kreacher tilted up his head and shakily poured the last of the potion- a word so cruelly similar to poison- down his throat. He saw Kreacher switch the lockets, and then lean against the basin, sobbing, the Dark Lord's locket in one hand, the goblet falling from the other.

_Water. _The word was almost placed into Regulus' mind. Regulus crawled to the lake.

"_Master Regulus!_" Kreacher cried. "_Come back, Master Regulus?"_

_He's lying,_ a nasty voice said in his head. _He wants the water all to himself._

Regulus dipped his hand into the water, and gave a cry of surprise as a pale hand grabbed his own. It pulled.

And then a hundred others did. Regulus was pulled into the water.

"_Kreacher_!" he screamed. "_Kreacher- please_!"

Kreacher wailed as Regulus was submerged into icy water. The Inferi were stronger than he could have ever thought- a thousand rotting hands, pulling him, drowning him.

Never had his thoughts been clearer. His hand stretched up towards the light, hoping someone would pull him back up before he was too far down. But it wasn't Kreacher his hand searched for. He closed his eyes, imagining Sirius' hand dragging him back off. He imagined Sirius, pulling him close, fighting off the Inferi. Sirius, his disowned, disgraced brother. Sirius, who hadn't spoken to him since his sixteenth birthday. Sirius, who would take him to Hogsmeade and get him a butterbeer to warm up.

An inferius closed an arm around his chest, dragging him further down. He imagined it was Sirius. Any minute now, the muggleborn, Lily Evans, would summon them up from the lake. Any minute now, any minute now, any minute now…

His hair and robes and tie swirled above him. He opened his eyes, and he could only see darkness.

And he died.


End file.
